Bubbly
by MissJaneDoe
Summary: Ginny's always burned for Harry, and as the result of some very different advice, she gets the chance to fall deeper for the akward boy, all the while teaching him to live without even realising it and perhaps learning a few things herself. post OoP


Disclaimer- I do not own this fictional universe or characters associated with the films or any idea written by JKR. No profit is being made off of this except for some writing experience

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Bubbly 

By Miss Jane Doe

Chapter One-

Progressive Advice

Just to clarify, I'm happy to say that I was never in love with Harry Potter to begin with. It was more of an awareness of his person than an infatuation. That's not to say that I didn't become infatuated, that I wasn't a besotted fool, because towards the end of my fifth year I was very much so. It was so easy to fall in love with him. Not to say that there weren't obstacles; other boys, drunken nights, and too many pointless idiocies in the way.

And it all began with a piece of advice.

It was the summer before my fifth year. I had just received a letter from Luna and had been putting off writing back to her. But since the commotion in the living room bordered on unbearable (the excitement of Harry and Hermione's arrival that morning had resulted in Ron attempting to leap down the stairs in greeting, the twins egging him on, ending in a broken arm and shouting from Mum) I decided that now was as good a time as any.

I escaped into the kitchen and was sitting at the table, quill poised to begin, when Harry slammed through the door looking quite annoyed. He never noticed me as he pulled up two cups and poured some pumpkin juice into each. As he was exiting, a cup in each hand, he stumbled over the brooms from the morning's game of quidditch.

Cursing and embarrassed with juice sloshing over each hand he was a dear sight; all awkward and out of place. He's the brave and noble figure who stumbles over things.

I fought not to laugh out loud, but I never really believed in keeping things in anyway. Laughter bubbled pass my lips and reached him with a great flush to his cheeks.

He turned to were I sat with an embarrassed look on his face. And oh, he was wonderfully kissable, all scruffy hair and tall and so very _there_. As I continued to laugh at him I could help but feel rather guilty. People dying out there and here I was having a soft moment with the one who would do anything to save them.

An odd look came into his eyes, as though he was thinking the same thing, and he sort of smiled. Clearing his throat rather awkwardly he managed to mumble something about bringing out some drinks, indicating the cups he held with a raise of his hands.

I continued to laugh, only softer this time. Awkward, that's what he was. And it was such a shame too because he was perfectly lovely when he was comfortable. I wanted to see him comfortable.

I patted the bench next to me and said in what could almost be described as questioningly, without giving a damn for a real answer, "Stay a while."

His gaze flicked to the door and back at me. He shrugged and sat down next to me, placing a cup down on the table and keeping one for himself. It was strange, to say the least, having it be just the two of us alone in a room together. I was tempted to tell him to just go when he lifted his cup for a drink.

What was I doing? This was my chance to let him see just how brilliant I can be. No, I wasn't going to let him take the easy way out of this. Bloody hell, I'm his best friend's sister. If he was ever going to see what he was missing this awkwardness had to end. And by Merlin it would end.

I waited for him to break the silence. It really was his problem, the not wanting to be friends with me, not mine.

"So… how's life?"

I raised my eyebrows in humor at how blatantly obvious that question made his uneasiness. Never the less I cut him some slack. Socially awkward as he was.

"Um, good. So far at least. Looking forward to getting back to school and all that. And you?"

"Good, good. Um, not exactly excited to be getting back though, it being sixth year. Trying to prolong the time I've got at school, you know?"

"That's right; you're all leaving in two years."

It never did strike me as anything life altering, this moment. But apparently, it was. I meant it all in good health of course. I only wanted to throw in my knut of advice into his already galleon filled fountain of it.

I had no idea what this moment would mean.

So like the clueless girl I was, I said, "Then make it count."

He began to choke on a gulp of pumpkin juice, ruining my guru moment.

"What?" he rasped

I shifted; slightly embarrassed now for thinking I could ever make a difference to him. But there was nothing for it. I drew in a breath and started again.

"This year, next year, make it count."

I studied the corner, my inkwell, the cabinets, the sink, and finally landed on him. He sat there looking as though Malfoy had snatched the snitch right out from under his nose, green eyes shuttered. I was mortified. A terrible heat flamed over my face, and even as he softly made his excuses and left, I couldn't shake the feeling I'd just done something significantly altering. Though good or bad I had yet to find out.

And I realized, it must have sounded as though I meant that all of the pain he'd gone through meant nothing. He must have thought that I was disregarding the past five years of his life, that I was saying that it didn't count.

Groaning, I buried my face in my hands.

_Oh yeah, you're really on your way to a great relationship_.

I sat there and continued to dwell on what had just passed, taking the time to study him in my mind and finish up a quick letter to Luna.

His eyes had been dark, an angry forest green. And I was certain that they'd be that color when he pulsed hot and hard between my thighs. It wouldn't be the physical pleasure that would make me moan under him, but the sheer force of his passion and his person in his eyes. Even closed off he had such a presence. It made my skin burn, my breath catch, and my body tingle with awareness. And he had been sitting right next to me. So close.

What was I doing to myself?

Well, there was no reason to sit there and sulk. So I stood and walked out of the kitchen with every intention of disappearing upstairs, only to paused and watch the scene unfold in the living room.

Hermione sat in an armchair, a very large book upon her lap. It was so big in size it not only covered her lap but the arms of the chair as well. I recognized it as a picture album Mum use to (still does) fret over when we were children. And I had a hunch about which ones Hermione was cooing over; baby pictures of Ron. Apparently he'd been a chubby little thing with the tendency to throw his little rattle or whatever that was handy.

I couldn't help but grin over at Fred and George as they cooed over seventeen year old Ron, arm mended but placed in a sling to set, who looked grumpy and sour sitting between them on the couch. Had Fred and George been across the room I was sure Ron would have thrown something at them.

"Isn't ditty Wronnie just a bumpkin?" Fred cooed and pinched Ron's cheek.

"Yes he is. He puts the bum in bumpkin. Yes he does." George imitated while pinching Ron's other cheek.

"Oi, get off! Mum!" Ron shouted.

"Mum! Did you hear that? Weenie Wronnikins can talk!"

"Fred, George, leave your brother alone."

That night, as I lay in bed, I resolved to forget what I had said to Harry in the kitchen and start again. I was going to get him comfortable around me if it meant sacrificing my pride. I only wish it wasn't such hard a thing to do. Maybe I could just get an alter and hire some ancient tribal priests to do it for me?

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Over breakfast the next morning, Dad announced that we'd be spending the day shopping for school materials in Diagon Alley. This was met with equal parts trepidation and excitement. 

"Finally, we get to get out of this hole." Ron had been the most verbal in expressing his delight, but he hadn't been the only one feeling holed in. The mounting tension and lack of an outlet left us pandering for the slightest ease, and finding none, resulted in aggressive roughhousing. I don't think I've punched Ron since we were children.

"Arthur, do you really think it wise? What with…" Mum glanced quickly at us and began whispering.

"Dumbledore's sent… the Order… protect… haven't seen…"

I glanced around the table and was pleasantly surprised to lock eyes with Harry. He was frowning, and a moment of perfect understanding flowed between us.

You-Know-Who's activities of late had been so unhinged that all his previous actions seemed almost like restraint. People were terrified of their own shadows and barely left their homes. Neither one of us wanted to see Diagon Alley. It would kill off any happy memories of the bustling back street, all alight and dizzying, memories we needed to hold onto.

We all grabbed our coats, Fred and George toting new inventions to bring down to their shop, and gathered around the fireplace. Mum fussed with us all, prattling off ministry suggestions and what-to-dos.

"Now, we've all got to have a partner. The ministry advises that when traveling anywhere you have a designated partner. Everyone have a partner then? Harry? Harry, who's your partner?"

Harry looked up from where he was staring at the floor. His gaze traveled slowly over everyone, and froze on me. There was an odd glint in his eyes and I felt my every nerve stand up and say _hello!_ It was all so obvious I could have laughed or cried; I was completely done for.

"Ginny." Was all he said, with a soft smile and a sharp gaze.

Oh.

"That is," he faltered, "would you like to?"

Oh, Abso_bloody_lutely.

I smiled at him and said the only thing I could say to Harry.

"Yes, of course."

"Now we'll have to take the floo two at a time then." Mum said, looking as though she wanted to reconsider letting Harry pick a partner.

Fred and George went through first, followed by Ron and Hermione. As Harry and I walked through the fireplace side by side I found I couldn't breathe. This was it, we were going to find out what You-know-who's return had reaped upon our dreams.

My jaw clenched and my fists tightened. All this sadness for nothing.

And like the pillar of strength that he was, Harry's hand tentatively brushed mine, offering up some comfort. Glancing at our hands, so close together, I made up my mind and took what he was offering. Holding his hand, heart thumping so loud I could barely hear the fire's roar, I looked up at him (he'd really grown) and answered his sympathetic smile with one of my own.

"It'll be… alright." He said, and we both knew it really wouldn't be.

I took in a breath, still looking up at him, and nodded. And as the flames swallowed us up, I knew I would spend forever burning side by side with Harry if only to hold his hand.

"Diagon Alley!" We both shouted. And the world disappeared.

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Comments are very much welcome and appreciated, 

Miss Jane Doe


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